


Making Bottles

by escaroles



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, The Six Thatchers Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escaroles/pseuds/escaroles
Summary: John is back at Baker Street with Rosie while they try to find Mary. Sherlock and Rosie are getting along fine.(Mary is only mentioned in this)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SamanthaLenore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaLenore/gifts).



 

John watched Sherlock make the bottles for Rosie the last 3 times. He checked if they were the right temperature. Sherlock had a chemistry degree. He could handle a bottle. It seems that John realized that as well, because when Sherlock got up to make Rosie's bottle this time, John didn't follow him. He stayed under the covers, on the sofa, watching telly. He gave Rosie for Sherlock to hold and said, simply, “She's hungry”. He looked so comfortable. He was _home_.

Sherlock was getting used to the domestic life. He knew he shouldn't. John would leave again soon. As soon as Mary returns. Or when John decides to act on the knowledge of her whereabouts. He seemed very interested on knowing where she was the first two weeks. Now, 5 weeks since she left, he would check the tracker once a day, instead of once every 8 hours. He forgot to check it a couple of days last week. He didn't even open his laptop today. These thoughts were in the back of Sherlock's mind a lot, but he didn't mention it. Why haven't they gone to Mary sooner?

John was letting go of Mary and it's a good thing. Maybe there's a chance. Sherlock cut his line of thought. Rosie was on his arms as he tested the bottle's temperature. She reached for the bottle, her eyes were fixed on it throughout the whole process. Sherlock smiled softly and placed her meal on her tiny hands, helping her adjust it on her mouth. He held her and watched, curiously, as she gulped down her milk. Sherlock took it away from her and her eyes started watering.

“There's no need to drink this fast. Ok?” He said, in a low and caring voice. She paid attention, holding her cry in, and reached again when Sherlock put the bottle closer to her. She drank in a less famished fashion, and he paced around the kitchen, staring at the little human in his arms. Once she was done, Sherlock rearranged her for burping, and she did.

And then, they stayed like that for a while. He knew she might sleep in this position, she has done it before, and it felt oddly comforting to hold her this close. He placed a kiss on the side of her head. He would destroy the fiber that holds the universe together for this human being. A human being that is not close to being fully aware of... anything. He thought he hated ignorance and lack of reason but she made him see it in a different light. She is innocent. Unaware. Pure. Just there to eat, sleep and make funny noises. His chest hurt when he thought about her leaving. John taking her to his house with Mary. 221B has been empty before, but this... this would be crushing. Sherlock felt her breath steadying against his neck. He rocked her for a little longer, knowing it was unnecessary... but he wanted to be with her just... a little longer.

He heard the telly in the next room start the opening credits of the stupid show they were watching. A marathon. He was here since the last episode started. John would notice, maybe he would think Sherlock did something wrong. He should go back.

He turned around and took a step towards the living room, but John was at the door. He was leaning against the back of his chair, arms crossed and a weird smile on his face. Sherlock must have had some physical reaction to John's surprisingly quiet approach, because Rosie woke up and started crying. They held eye contact for a split second, but it felt way longer than that. What the hell was that? Sherlock turned to Rosie, holding her a little more firmly and rocking her gently. He shushed her. He glanced at John, who looked like he really enjoyed that little pose, because he didn't move at all.

“Everything is ok” Sherlock whispered to her “It's ok. You can go back to sleep now. No need to cry, everything is ok.”.

John kept watching the scene like it was the most amusing piece of entertainment he'd even seen. Rosie's cries got a little louder and desperate. Sherlock was starting to panic. She noticed that. Babies always do. He held her closer, hiding his face from John, as well as doing an horrible job at pretending that he didn't mind his staring.

“Everything is ok... come on. We were doing fine.” Sherlock said. He started walking towards John. “Do you want your daddy?” He said, a little heartbroken that he couldn't handle her himself. He wasn't a parent. She wasn't his. And neither was John. And then... And then John moved toward her, reaching her with his arms. She looked at him, eyes red with tears, and held on to Sherlocks shoulder. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and didn't seem too keen on letting it go. John retrieved his arms and looked at her.

“I think it's you that she wants” John said, looking at Sherlock, who was holding back tears. She held on to him. She trusted him. She liked him. He stared at the baby like it was the most precious thing he ever encountered. Because it was. Sherlock tried to keep it together. He kissed the top of her head and stroked her back with his thumb, while supporting her weight with his palm. Her crying started to fade. She was calming down. He kept his lips on her head as he whispered “I got you.” over and over. And just as soon as she started crying her eyes out, she was asleep. And then there was John, staring at him. He could feel his gaze, but wouldn't meet it. Sherlock cleared his throat.

“I'll take her to the crib” He said and walked past John to his room.

John and Rosie were staying there. It was easier. No extra stairs, close to the bathroom, closer to the kitchen. Sherlock was staying in the room upstairs. He hated it at first but he got used to it incredibly fast. He wondered if anywhere would feel like home if he heard John making tea in the morning.

He put her down on her crib. His hands started shaking as soon as they broke contact with her. He shifted his gaze from her and John, again, was at the door. Sherlock took a deep breath. He was leaning (again), agains the door frame, smiling.

“You really shouldn't do that” Sherlock whispered. John giggled lightly and shrugged. His hair was greying and was swooped back. He looked better than when then first met, and that's saying a lot. He was wearing a plaid button down and some dark jeans and he looked... well, it was John. Nothing new under the sun. He always looked effortlessly great. Sherlock swallowed.

“You're great with her” John said, putting his hand on his jeans pockets and looking away.

“I told you I can make a bottle. I don't understand why you seem so surprised.” Sherlock responded. Both of them talking really low. John looked at Rosie in her crib an pointed towards the living room, before leaving. Sherlock looked at Rosie one last time before closing the door and following John.

He joined him under the covers again. They were sitting closer together each day, but they wouldn't mention it. John's knees were touching his today. It was a good day. And even if it was not real, he couldn't help but imagine his life like this. John and Rosie staying. For good. They both sharing John's old bedroom, until she gets old enough to be safe around stairs... Then he and John would be in his room... together, like he imagined so many times. Watching Rosie grow up, as John and himself grow old. His eyes gazed down and saw Johns left hand. That ring wasn't Sherlock's. That man wasn't his. That baby wasn't his. That life was not his. And Mary Watson was the luckiest human being he has ever met.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the Sherlock fandom, and my first attempt to write fanfiction in english, so if you see any mistakes, please let me know. Inspired by a post by http://sussexbound.tumblr.com/.
> 
> My tumblr: escaroles.tumblr.com
> 
> EDIT: Corrected a few things, please let me know if any of you notice something else.


End file.
